PART II.

I. Lord Arranmore’s Amusements
II.  The Heckling of Henslow
III.  Mary Scott’s Two Visitors
IV.  A Marquis on Matrimony
V. Brooks enlists a Recruit
VI.  Kingston Brooks, Philanthropist
VII.  Brooks and his Missions
VIII.  Mr. Bullsom is Staggered
IX.  Ghosts
X. A New Don Quixote

PART III.

I. An Aristocratic Recruit
II.  Mr. Lavilette interferes
III.  The Singular Behaviour of Mary Scott
IV.  Lord Arranmore in a New Role
V. Lady Sybil lends a Hand
VI.  The Reservation of Mary Scott
VII.  Father and Son
VIII.  The Advice of Mr. Bullsom
IX.  A Question and an Answer
X. Lady Sybil says “Yes”
XI.  Brooks hears the News
XII.  The Prince of Sinners speaks out

A Prince of Sinners

PART I

CHAPTER I

MR. KINGSTON BROOKS, POLITICAL AGENT

Already the sweepers were busy in the deserted hall, and the lights burned low.  Of the great audience who had filled the place only half-an-hour ago not one remained.  The echoes of their tumultuous cheering seemed still to linger amongst the rafters, the dust which their feet had raised hung about in a little cloud.  But the long rows of benches were empty, the sweepers moved ghostlike amongst the shadows, and an old woman was throwing tealeaves here and there about the platform.  In the committee-room behind a little group of men were busy with their leave-takings.  The candidate, a tall, somewhat burly man, with hard, shrewd face and loosely knit figure, was shaking hands with every one.  His tone and manner savoured still of the rostrum.

“Good-night, sir!  Good-night, Mr. Bullsom!  A most excellent introduction, yours, sir!  You made my task positively easy.  Good-night, Mr. Brooks.  A capital meeting, and everything very well arranged.  Personally I feel very much obliged to you, sir.  If you carry everything through as smoothly as this affair to-night, I can see that we shall lose nothing by poor Morrison’s breakdown.  Good-night, gentlemen, to all of you.  We will meet at the club at eleven o’clock to-morrow morning.  Eleven o’clock precisely, if you please.”

The candidate went out to his carriage, and the others followed in twos and threes.  A young man, pale, with nervous mouth, strongly-marked features and clear dark eyes, looked up from a sheaf of letters which he was busy sorting.

“Don’t wait for me, Mr. Bullsom,” he said.  “Reynolds will let me out, and I had better run through these letters before I leave.”

Mr. Bullsom was emphatic to the verge of gruffness.

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” he declared.  “I tell you what it is, Brooks.  We’re not going to let you knock yourself up.  You’re tackling this job in rare style.  I can tell you that Henslow is delighted.”